Five Times Augustus Hill Got Up and Walked Away v2
by Poetic-Serpentine
Summary: This is the second version of the story, written in third person perspective and vastly different from the one above. Comments are appreciated.


**Five Times Augustus Hill Got Up and Walked Away**

He's a small boy for ten years old but standing in the doorway of the house, hands shoved in his pockets and scuffing his shoes against the faded mat, he feels even smaller.

Burr's sitting in living room, reading the newspaper. His glasses are perched on his nose and a cup of coffee sits at his elbow. Rays of evening light filter in through the tiny window and the smell of baking bread wafts in from the kitchen.

_Now or never/now or never/now or never/now or never/now or never/now or never _

It's a familiar sight and Augustus takes comfort in the familiarity as he steps forward to make his request.

Augustus is a little nervous but as he moves into the living room, he reminds himself he doesn't have to be. This is Burr. This is security. This is safety. This is home.

Burr looks up from his newspaper and smiles in that way he reserves for family. "What's on your mind, Augustus?"

Augustus takes his hands out of his pockets, stands up very straight and squares his shoulders. He meets Burr's eyes and says, as casually as he can, "I want to get a paper route."

Burr chuckles, lays his newspaper down and leans forward. Augustus strains to keep eye contact.

Never look downBurr told him, after he'd come home, smarting from a lost argument with his friend and looking for ways to toughen up. Never look away and never stop reminding the other fellow you're a force to be reckoned with.

Augustus holds Burr's eye for as long as he can before he has to drop them. Shamefaced, he looks at the ground until he feels a finger under his chin, dragging his face upward to meet Burr's stern gaze.

"A paper route?" Burr's voice is gruffer and lower than ever and Augustus tenses, unsure of what to expect. "You don't need no paper route. You got that? I don't know who put this foolish idea in your head but I ain't gonna stand for it. I don't want you working for any of those uppity assholes."

_But…but…I…_

Maybe Burr notices his lower lip trembling or the way his shoulders are starting to shake but something in his face softens and his voice loses some of its gruffness.

"Oh, come now Augustus, don't cry like a little girl. What do you want a paper route for anyhow?"

Augustus wants to open his mouth and say he doesn't know why. He just knows that it's different, that it's something none of the other brothers would be interested in and that that's enough for him.

Burr misunderstands his silence. "Is it for the money? Do you want spending money? Is that it?"

Augustus weakly tries to shake his head but it's too late. Burr is grinning jovially and slapping his knees.

"Well! If that isn't something! Little Augustus wants to grow up and have a real job. Well, that's fine, boy, that's just fine. But none of this paper route nonsense, I can give you a job."

There it is. The words all the other kids on the corner wait to hear, words that tell them they are ready to learn the business and to become men.

But Augustus isn't like the other kids. In some inexplicable way, he feels different. And even though he knows that his future lies here, with Burr and the other boys selling smack on the streets, he still tries to fight it.

_Can't do it. Can't. Won't. _

"Oh, no that's okay then Burr. I understand about the paper route. I won't get a job."

Augustus turns to walk away, but Burr grabs his arm rather forcefully and spins him back around. He gets up from the chair and looms over him and Augustus realizes just how small he is.

"I'm giving you a job, Augustus." Burr speaks very slowly, with an edge in his voice and Augustus fights to hold his ground.

_Never stop reminding the other fellow you're a force to be reckoned with. _

"Augustus?"

"Yes, Burr, I know and I'm grateful, really I am, but I just…I just…"

"You just what?" Burr almost snarls these words and Augustus almost stumbles back. Almost.

_Too late, too far, too deep._

"I just don't want to do that Burr. I don't want to sell drugs. I wouldn't be very good at it anyways. I'm not very fast or very strong or very smart. I wouldn't be…I wouldn't…"

Burr grabs him by the scruff of his neck, drags him closer and his voice is so low, so quiet but Augustus can feel his breath on his cheek and see his eyes narrowing and he knows enough to be afraid.

"You will, boy. You will do as I say. You got to learn the business and you got to learn to take an order."

Burr lets go of his collar, but pushes him back into another chair. He sits himself back down, sniffs long and loud and takes holds of his newspaper once again.

"I won't Burr."

Burr looks up slowly, looks straight at him and Augustus realizes that the voice he just heard was his own. He meets Burr's gaze and says, as forcefully as he can, "I won't sell for you Burr. For you or for anyone."

Burr opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Augustus gets up and walks away. He goes out the front door and walks down the street as slowly as he can, trying to calm his racing heart.

It's the first time he's ever disobeyed Burr.

Augustus goes to the church and sits there for a long time, trying to clear his head and trying to find courage.

_Courage. It takes courage to be one of the boys, to learn the business. It's a coward who runs away. _

Augustus looks up at the altar. There sits a small bronze statue of the Virgin Mary, looking down upon her son, her face full of compassion and wisdom.

It reminds him of his own mother. She was always saying that God would guide him and would help him find his path, no matter where it lay.

_God made me different from the others. Maybe my path lies in a different place. _

Augustus draws in a deep breath. He wouldn't run away. He would go back but he would hold his ground. He would show Burr that he was a force to be reckoned with.

Augustus murmurs a quick prayer of thanks and just as he's about to leave, the priest, Old Father Lennox, stooped and small but still smiling, comes up to him.

"You seem distressed, Augustus," Father Lennox begins, in his customary calm tone. "Is there something wrong? Anything I can help you with?"

Augustus smiles. "No, it's okay Father," he says, sneaking one last look at Mary, still calm and serene on the dais. "I figured it out."

And with that, Augustus gets up and walks away.

After that day, Augustus changes. He doesn't know if he's had an epiphany or an awakening or if he's finally found his path or his courage or his balls but whatever the reason, Augustus Hill is different.

_Different? Different don't begin to cut it. _

His friends notice. His completely unexpected refusal has rocked their worlds and they can't quite figure out what part he plays in their lives anymore. They treat him differently. He still hangs around with them, plays basketball, goes out for beer and talks about girls but he can't shake that feeling that he doesn't quite fit in.

His relationship with Burr also suffers. He knows that in Burr's mind, he betrayed him, and he also knows that's not something a man like Burr can just forgive.

Burr doesn't ask him to sell drugs again. He doesn't protest when Augustus gets a job stacking shelves and sweeping floors at the local hardware store. He doesn't object when Augustus mentions college, mentions leaving home, mentions getting a degree, a diploma, a career.

But he also doesn't congratulate Augustus when he brings home Annabelle, a sweet, shy and very pretty girl he's fallen very much in love with. He doesn't praise him for making the school basketball team or applaud him for his efforts to improve his grades.

Burr ignores him completely. He still comes over to visit Augustus's mother and Augustus sees him discussing business with the brothers but Burr never speaks to him and goes out of his way to pretend Augustus doesn't exist.

_Fucker. He thinks that if he ignores me, I'll come crawling back to him? He don't know me. I don't need him. I don't. I don't. But, Christ, sometimes…sometimes all I want…I just want him to fucking look at me!_

It hurts Augustus very deeply. It feels like losing his father all over again.

At nineteen years old, Augustus is all grown up. He has graduated from high school and though he can't afford college, his hard work and good reputation has earned him a steady job as a cashier in a convenience store. He's moving into an apartment with Annabelle, the woman he loves and plans to marry in a few months. The apartment is tiny and on the other side of town, the job requires long hours and lots of patience but Augustus couldn't be more excited.

His mother has tears running down her face as she hugs her son, happy that he has chance to escape the ghetto lifestyle and unhappy that he will have to leave her.

Augustus steps out of her embrace and he stares at the house he grew up in, the house where he took his first steps, said his first words, laughed and cried and loved. Everything is so familiar, so comforting and so safe. There are the photographs on the walls, the well worn rug, the tiny window and Burr sitting in his chair, reading the paper.

_I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. _

Augustus swallows hard. He doesn't want to leave this house, doesn't want to leave his mother. This place, this life is everything he's ever known and he threw away his chance to be connected to it forever by refusing the man who now sits in front of him, facing the wall, pointedly ignoring his departure.

Augustus waits. Surely Burr will say goodbye, will take this chance to forgive him and will be sure not to let it end like this.

But Burr doesn't even turn around.

_The end. _

A lump rises in his throat but Augustus ignores it. He kisses his mother one last time, bends down to pick up his suitcase, gets up and walks away.

Augustus was once told that "it's always hard in the beginning", but as a young man, full of dreams and hopes and youthful idealism, he believes that he can tackle any challenge.

He's always prepared for it, for that hurdle, for that test he will pass with flying colours. But until it comes, he waits. He goes about his life.

He cleans the apartment twice every week and does the laundry when it's his turn. He walks to the store everyday, stands in his spot behind the counter, answers questions and rings up goods. He comes home at night, eats whatever is in the fridge and then crawls into bed. Annabelle is there, as pretty as ever and yet whenever Augustus looks at her, looks at the lines on her face and at the bitter curve of her mouth, he can't seem to see the girl he first fell in love with.

_But I do love her. Of course I love her. She's my wife. I wouldn't have married her if I didn't love her. Right? Right?_

They rarely make love and when they do, it's forced and passionless. Most nights, Augustus lies awake, staring at the cracked ceiling of his bedroom and listening to the house creak and groan.

He lies awake as his opposing thoughts war with each other and he tries to find some measure of peace. He tries to reflect.

_Fuck that…I'm not fucking reflecting. I'm remembering. _

_Remembering what exactly? _

_Anything. Anytime…before this._

_This? What is **this** exactly? _

_This is boredom. This is dullness. This is grey…man, you can say it however you fucking want, but this is mo-not-ony, baby. _

_Can't complain. _

_Oh but that's right. Can't complain. This is what you wanted. A good life, right? This is a good life, with a good job and a good house and a good wife. You're a fucking model citizen. _

_That's right. _

_Bullshit it is. A real life. We wanted a real life, a real future, one that we could create and mould and look forward to. We wanted to be…masters of our destiny, wanted to be free of the constraints and the control. _

_We did that, didn't we? We're free. No one's influencing us, telling us what to do. We made the decision to walk out on Burr ourselves, didn't we? _

_Burr, Burr. It always comes back to Burr, doesn't it? _

_He's gone now. He's out of our lives. _

_Yeah, and we got a new guy in now. The Routine. Maybe you've met him. Dull fellow, unimaginative, believes in order and structure and method. _

_This is not…_

_Not what? Not what it's supposed to be like? You're damn right it isn't. It's not what we expected. This apartment sucks. It's not friendly or bright or welcoming, not like a home should be. It's not anything really, it's just…there. My job is awful. I hate the clank of the cash register and the bell above the door and I hate the uniform, with the smiley face pin and goddamn pinstripes. And Annabelle…Annabelle's changed. The light's gone out of her eyes and she doesn't really grin or laugh anymore, she just, she has this…this bitter smile and…oh God, oh fuck, I can't do this anymore, I can't, I can't. _

_Can't do what? _

_Can't live this imitation life, this half-life. This can't be all, this can't be it, I can't just fucking sleepwalk through life. There has to be more than what I have right now. I made a mistake somewhere along the line. It's not supposed to be like this. I'm tired…I'm twenty five years old and I'm tired. I never do anything and I still…I just…_

_Well, it's too late now. _

_That's right. Can't go back. _

_We can go forward. _

_Forward? Forward to what? There's no future. There's just this, this endless line of days spent in the company of the Routine. _

_At least we're alive. You ever think about that? Slinging on the streets with Burr, you'd probably be caught or hurt or dead by now. At least we're alive. _

_For what? You think violence is the worst thing we got to face? The worst thing is the great yawn. How are we filling day after dull fucking day? We got The Routine, and he's supposed to give our life order and meaning. But I'm here to tell you that I've lived with the Routine, and now I'm less afraid of getting stabbed in my back, hell I'd fucking prefer it. Cause let me tell you, the knife will end it quickly, but the Routine will leave you walking dead. _

Augustus shuts his eyes tight, tight as he can and when he opens them, he has to fight back tears at what he sees

Everything is still exactly the same.

Each day is so very much like the other that Augustus begins to lose track. The weeks and months and years begin to bleed into each other and in much the same way, little by little, Augustus can feel his dreams and hopes and youthful ideals bleeding away as well.

Left with nothing but reality to occupy his thoughts, Augustus tries to focus on the positives, on the future, on the moments of colour in his otherwise grey world.

When that doesn't work, he decides to escape.

It's the perfect memories that haunt Augustus. Those ephemeral moments of self-awareness when everything bent to his will and he felt like some good-humoured deity, fashioning the world just for his amusement. And when they passed, he felt so fucking hollow that he'd do anything to fill up the empty places inside and recapture an echo of the rush you used to get from knowing that this is it. This is perfect happiness.

Augustus knows he'll never have those moments again though and the only way to lose the pain is to throw himself down the neck of a bottle and hope it's enough to make him forget. Living this wretched, fucking half-life after knowing moments of perfection is just too much.

Forgetting, of course, is easier than it sounds. But the liquor makes everything a bit softer, more hazy, and, if he's lucky, slightly humorous.

Annabelle begins to recoil in his presence, almost automatically, her body instinctively shrinking away from the taste on his lips, the sticky sweet smell on his breath. But Augustus doesn't notice and if he does, he doesn't care.

He continues on like this, crawling slowly but steadily towards oblivion, until one day reality rears its ugly head and yanks him back from the edge.

It's a letter from Burr.

Augustus's mother always told him to keep his appointments and so here he is, ten years old again, scared, sweating and fidgeting.

He's in his old house again, sitting at his mother's kitchen table, waiting for Burr to come and explain why after all these years he's received a letter requesting a meeting.

_Not requesting, ol' Burr, he orders. Never requests. _

Augustus can't believe that Burr would dare, that after all the years without communication Burr would have the audacity to try to command him.

_He was right though, wasn't he? You came, just like he knew you would. _

Augustus smiles bitterly.

_Should've learned by now…all roads eventually lead back to Burr. _

Augustus hears the door creak open and his bitterness dissipates the second he sees Burr. He looks older than his age, he's more stooped and walks with a limp, but when he smiles and says in his gruff voice "Good to see you, Augustus", it's as if no time has passed.

But then Augustus looks down at the letter in his hand and reminds himself that he's not that scared little boy anymore. He's a man. He's made his own way in the world and Burr is now an equal, not a superior.

Before he can speak, Burr eases himself into a chair, and says, with his customary bluntness, "I'm gonna give you another chance, Augustus."

Of all the things Augustus was expecting to hear, this is not one of them. His astonishment displays itself across his face and Burr smiles knowingly.

"I know, I know. Things have been bad between us, Augustus, but I want to make it right. I want to give you this second chance. Come and work for me Augustus. I need you."

Augustus's mouth goes dry. His hands start to shake and he doesn't know if he's angry or upset or overjoyed.

Faintly, he hears the front door open and shut but Burr ignores it, grips the table and leans in closer. Augustus fights the urge to draw back and drop his eyes.

"I got a lot of good boys working with me, Augustus. They're not you but they done well. Your old pal Kevin's one and Tug and Carlton, you remember Carlton?"

Three men shuffle into the dining room and stand directly behind Burr, arms crossed and eyes cold. Augustus stares at them and is shocked to recognize his old friends and playmates.

_They look…they seem…_

The laughing, carefree boys he once knew are gone. In their places stand dangerous and embittered men, hardened by their experiences.

Burr smiles, or tries to smile, and says "They've been loyal soldiers, these boys and I need more like them. Life on the streets is precarious, Augustus, fast and dangerous and often over much too soon. That's why I need men like you, Augustus. Tough, talented and thoroughly loyal, I need you on my side."

_Burr needs me. _

A fierce streak of pride shoots through Augustus and he has to bite his lip to keep from grinning. "Well, Burr, I'm going to have to -"

"But that's not all," Burr interrupts, leaning even closer. "All of my boys get discounts on the…merchandise."

Augustus swallows hard. It was getting harder and harder for him to find release with alcohol, perhaps, perhaps this was the answer.

Carlton bend forwards, his lean face splitting into a Cheshire cat grin. "You ever tried tits, Augustus?"

Augustus shakes his head and Carlton chuckles and tips his head back. "Man, you don't know what you're missing. Tits…man, world on tits, it's like…it's like…"

"It's easy," Tug puts in smoothly. "Every care, every problem, every nagging little detail, it's all gone with that one sweet inhale, brother. It's pure peace."

"And the more you sell," Kevin adds, smiling easily, too easily, "the more you can take. Reap and sow, my man, reap and sow."

"So," Burr smirks, folds his hands and leans back, contented, confident. "What'll it be, Augustus?"

Augustus opens his mouth, his answer all prepared, but before he can get it out, he looks into the faces of the four men in front of him.

He sees men with upturned lips, fangs bared, fists at their sides, tense, calculating, analyzing. They didn't see him as an old friend or surrogate son, they sized him up based on potential: new dealer, bitter enemy, waste of time…

He sees their eyes, so guarded and cold and bitter and _dead_…

Pure terror courses through him, rushes through nerves and muscles and bones and leaves him cold and shaking.

_I'm not you, I'm not you, I'm not you, I can't be like you._

"No."

His voice is surprisingly calm and steady. Burr tenses and the three men behind him drop their smiles and ready their claws.

When Burr speaks, his voice is terrifyingly low. "You refusing me, Augustus? Again?"

Augustus looks at Burr, looks him right in the eye and smiles.

_I get it. I understand. _

"Yes, Burr. Yes, I am."

With that, Augustus gets up from the table and walks away.

Augustus never forgets that day, the day he confronted reality and severed his last ties with the streets.

After that day, Augustus stops the drinking. He takes weekends off, goes to rehab sessions, plays basketball and attends church every Sunday.

He becomes a better husband to Annabelle, loves her and cherishes her and thanks God everyday for giving her to him. When she tells him she's pregnant, he has to turn away, so that she doesn't see the tears well up in his eyes, sheer joy and gratefulness for what he might have never experienced.

Most importantly, Augustus vows that he will never relinquish control of his life again, be it to Burr, the Routine or the bottle.

But some things are easier said than done and some patterns are hard to break. So when he receives a letter from Burr, requesting – _Yeah, right – _that he visit him in Oz, the local state penitentiary, Augustus, ever the masochist, borrows a friend's car and makes the drive up.

_Why do I do this? What am I hoping for? That the old man has changed? Fuck that. Nothing changes, nothing ever changes. _

But in the end, he goes anyways, just like he knows he will.

Just like Burr knows he will.

Augustus heard somewhere that Oz is the largest correctional facility in the state and yet for some reason, he can't seem to shake off the feeling of claustrophobia that clamps down on him the second he walks through the gates.

The visiting room is plain, stark, white on the top and blue on the bottom, with plastic chairs and hard metal tables. Augustus moves around restlessly, trying to get comfortable and his eyes dart around the room. He can't imagine living in such a godforsaken place.

Burr lumbers in eventually, painfully slow and unsteady on his feet. His hands are gnarled and his face is more lined than ever.

_Don't look like this, Burr. I can't pity you, you of all people! _

Burr sits down, folds his hands and looks right at Augustus.

"Thanks for coming to see me."

Augustus shrugs and smiles. "What else was I going to do?"

Burr's lips twist into some semblance of a smile. "I knew you would come, Augustus. Even though you refused to help me before, I knew you'd come now, when I have no one left."

_To have no one left. That could have been me. Here but for the grace of God sit I. _

Augustus smiles bitterly. "Third time's the charm, huh Burr?"

"No!" Burr slams his fist down on the table and several families sitting at other tables look over at them. "Goddamn it no! You think I asked you to come here so I could beg you to work for me again, after being refused twice? I have my pride, Augustus. This place may have stripped me of everything else but it can never take that away from me."

Shame washes over Augustus. "I'm sorry, Burr. Why did you ask me to come?"

Burr sighs heavily. "So I could…explain to you why I done some of the things I done."

Augustus is surprised, to say the least. But he is curious as well and so he waits for Burr to begin.

Burr frowns and then starts to speak, quick and brusque. "Augustus, listen to me. Now, I ain't going to apologize for who I am or what I done. I didn't have any other options and I always did what I thought was best. Of course, I wish things could've been better. Of course, I wish we'd been born in one of them fancy apartments up there on Park Avenue. But wishes don't put food on the table, Augustus. Wishes don't put clothes on your back or a roof over your head."

Burr paused and took a deep breath. "I hated it. I hated what I had to do to survive, to carve a life for myself and for the people I cared about. But I told myself it didn't matter, Augustus. I did it so you could sleep at night, even if I couldn't."

A lump rises in Augustus's throat and he has to blink a few times to hold back the tears.

Burr continues. "I did what I had to do, Augustus, and I did it all for you. And then…then I ask you for a small favour. Some little thing you can do for me, to start repaying me back for all I done for you. But you refuse me. I'm angry but I don't say anything."

_You got that right. _

"I wait a while. I ask you again. And once again, I am refused."

Burr's face hardens. "I always thought of you as a son, Augustus. But a son is supposed to follow his father, obey his father."

Burr leans his forward, his voice dropping. "I was wrong about you. You're no son of mine, you ungrateful little shit!"

He pounds the table again and visitors look fearfully in his direction.

Burr ignores the stares. "Is that what you are, Augustus? Ungrateful?"

Augustus shakes his head rapidly, mind frantic. "I'm grateful Burr. I'm grateful for everything you done for me. I just…I just…"

Burr shakes his head slowly. "It's too late now, Augustus."

"No," Augustus insists forcefully, "it's not too late. I love you Burr, and I'm grateful for everything."

Burr looks at him, eyes hard. "Prove it."

Augustus suddenly feels cold all over.

Burr senses it and begins to speak soothingly. "It's just a small thing, Augustus, a small thing. I just need you to send me a package. A special package. Just one. If it works, maybe more, but for, now just the one."

_Yes. _

It's on the tip of Augustus's tongue but as he's about to say it, he stops. He's looks at Burr and he _sees _him.

Yes, he's seen Burr many times before, but for the first time, Augustus sees Burr as what he is: a man.

A man. Not a demi-god, not a surrogate father, not the king of the streets. A man.

An unhappy man. One with flaws and cares and the weight of the world on his shoulders, a man who make mistakes but soldiers on, uncaring of the devastation he leaves in his wake.

Augustus knows that Burr is just doing what he has to do. He's just a man who's trying to survive.

But Augustus doesn't want to just survive. He wants to live. He wants to live a full and free life and he knows that as long as he's tied to Burr, he'll never be free.

"No."

Burr's eyes narrow and his fists clench. "No? You refuse me when I need you most?"

Augustus smiles sadly. "You don't need me, Burr. You don't need anyone. You'll survive. You always do."

Burr sputters incoherently and then, without warning, leaps to his feet and punches Augustus right on the jaw.

Augustus falls to the floor and watches from there as the guards wrestle Burr out of the room, Burr swearing and spitting the whole time.

Augustus touches his jaw and winces. He stares at the door and realizes he isn't angry at Burr. He pities him.

_Burr will never know freedom again. He'll never again feel the wind in his hair or the sunlight on his skin. He can only remember, remember the touch of a woman, the sound of laughter and the words "I love you." He's trapped, in every kind of hell. _

But Augustus isn't trapped. Not just because he's _out there_, in the real world, working and playing and talking to real people, but because he's found something _in here. _Some freedom within himself no one will ever be able to touch or take away.

Augustus smiles at the thought. He did it. He made it. He's going to be all right.

And with that, Augustus gets up and walks away.


End file.
